


The MollCroft Watson Wedding

by MissInComplete



Series: The MollCroft Papers [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU Watson Wedding, F/M, Implied Johnlock, Mollcroft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 18:27:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7856323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissInComplete/pseuds/MissInComplete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would have happened if Mycroft had of attended the Watson Wedding?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The MollCroft Watson Wedding

AU - MollCroft at the Watson Wedding.

  
A/N AU at the Watson wedding; if MollCroft could have started there.    
Another attempt at Words by Birdy song fic but this has had the same problem - I just can't seem to stick to the story in the lyrics! I've left them in but I think you could get through it without them there as a guide. Oops. Never mind! 

4000 words! One of my longest chapters/one shots! 

* * *

  
**_Waiting on you_ ** ****_  
_ **_Trying to keep your head strong_ ** ****_  
_ **_With nothing to lose_ ** ****_  
_ **_You raise your voice with something to prove_ **   
  
Molly stood with Greg Lestrade by the buffet table while the other guests settled down for the after party. She had lost her date; Tom was still mad about the fork incident during the lunch and had insisted on leaving to get it checked out by a proper doctor… Oh and Mycroft had had him forcefully removed from the premises.   


 

_ They had ducked into a small room off to the side once the commotion had cleared up. Molly huffed and he cradled his hand.  _ __  
_ "Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have- just let me-" _ __  


_ "Damn right you shouldn't have!" He yanked his hand away from her.  
_

_ “Let me take a look-”  
_

_ "No!”  
_

_ “I'm a doctor, Tom…”  
_

_ “Not a real one - sewing up dead people hardly means you can dress this wound properly.” Wound? Bloody Wound?! Molly would wound him in a minute if he didn't grow up!  _

_ "You stabbed me with a bloody fork because your Sherlock was parading around and ruining the wedding!"  _ __  
__  
_ "My Sherlock was saving a life!" _ __  
_  
_ __ He glared and huffed through his nose like a fed up bull. "You always make excuses for him, even when he's being bloody nutter!” 

_ “Sherlock isn't a nutter!” Molly snapped, “He's infinitely smart, quick witted and spends his time solving crimes that Scotland Yard and a team of specialists can't!”  _ __  
__  
****

**_And all the things you say to me_ ** ****_  
_ **_I can't forget them_ ** ****_  
_ **_You don't leave_ ** **_  
_ ** ****_But you tell me with your eyes what you need_

 

_ “if he's so brilliant that you're willing to stab”, Molly made an exasperated sound, “your boyfriend then maybe you should be with him!” Tom made no effort to keep his voice down as he huffed at Molly,  _

_ Molly took an involuntary step back as he approached her, “Don't be ridiculous! I'm not interested in Sherlock like that.” Any more, “He's a good friend and he needs a lot of support…”  _

_ "Support? Support?! Is that what we call it? Running off at 3am or staying seven hours late at work because he ‘needs your support’?!” Tom had raised his voice to a ridiculous level now and was very close to Molly's face as he finished, “You need to cut Sherlock off if we’re ever going to work!”  _

_ Molly glared at him, about to retort, but the couple stopped their exchange as at the same time they noticed a figure standing in the doorway of the small room.  _

_ Mycroft Holmes stood in a lavish three piece suit, pocket watch and chain displayed perfectly across his front. A small pocket square popped out the top pocket matching the colour scheme of the wedding. He looked awfully bored as he looked them over, raising his chin a little higher. A sharp sniff and he began, “It’s very uncouth to argue like children so loudly; especially at a wedding.” His eyebrow raised, “Time for you to leave Mr Green.”  _

_ Tom seemed to have lost momentum and his mouth worked on auto pilot, though, without words, but only for a second. “Who the bloody hell are you?  You jumped up-” He rounded on Mycroft who just rolled his eyes, an unpleasant smile formed on his lips.  _

_ “Tom!” Molly placed a hand on his arm but he shrugged her off, “Tom, just stop.” A blush in her cheeks, “We're sorry Mycroft, we've finished now, just a silly-”  _

**_Oh, please_ **

**_Do you think that I don't know what it means?_ ** __  
  


_ “Silly?! Get this -” Tom started to regale the argument to Mycroft, adding in little quips about Sherlock and her relationship with him, all the time Molly trying to hush him and save him from the horrendous pit he had vigorously dug for himself.  _

_ “Ah, Well. It seems the next steps for everyone are quite clear.” Mycroft said calmly. _

_ “See, I knew you'd understand. Man to Man. Women-” Tom didn't get chance to finish the sentence as three-piece suited gentleman had settled a swift right hook to his jaw. Tom landed in a heap, dazed.  _

_ Mycroft rubbed a thumb over his knuckles and made to leave. “Come along Miss Hooper. D.I Lestrade is looking for you. No, leave that there.” referring to Tom still on the floor. “I have arrangements for others to assist his departure.” He offered his arm to Molly in an old fashioned gesture, which she took hesitantly, “oh and Mr Green? If you ever talk such nonsense again I will see to it they don't find your body.”  _

__  
**_All the things you hide for me_ ** ****_  
_ **_I accept them_ ** **_  
_ ** ****_But I need you next to me_

 

_ The new couple left the room and looked to be making their way back to the main throng of guests, however Mycroft took a sudden left and they were out walking in the garden. _

_ The walk was silent, Molly eyeing Mycroft, trying to work out how to thank him and ask about his poor knuckles.  _

_ “Miss Hooper. I am fine, please do not waste your time or concern.” He hadn’t looked at her once, she was sure of it, so lord knows how Mycroft had worked out she was chewing her lip thoughtfully and brewing with unease. He stopped just on the petite bridge overlooking the pond, staring out into the dark gardens of the grounds.  _

_ “Mycroft-” Molly began, then suddenly stopped. What did she say? Thanks for knocking Tom’s jaw out of line? Sorry my date is a royal swine?  _

_ “Miss Hooper-”  _

_ “Molly, please. Molly.” She insisted, “I feel like I owe you… For the whole palaver with Tom I mean… He shouldn’t have said all those things about Sherlock, or your mother… Please don’t think that that was my opinion too, I didn’t know he felt that way about all this- He was such a jerk!” She twiddled with her fingers, twisting them and wringing her hands. “How’s your knuckles?”  _

_ He glanced at his right hand and flexed the fingers. A fine bruise was evidently developing across them and they ached a little but he simply gave a small nod, “No apology necessary. And if it were, it certainly wouldn't be your place to be offering it. You could do so much better than that. Where did you find such a delightful fellow?” His lips quirked into a Mycroft smile. _

_ “Hmm..” Was the only noise offered by Molly. _ __  
__  
“I have misspoken, I meant no offence Molly, I merely meant-”  
_  
_ __ “Oh I know.. I know.. I just seem to have such terrible luck with men. They all seem to be psychopaths or control freaks.” She mumbled, watching the water. As she admired the shimmer of the pond reflecting the nights sky, Mycroft admired Molly in her bright yellow dress with just as much attention. “Maybe you and Sherlock could vet the next one?” She offered lightheartedly after a small silence has stretched between them. The look on Mycroft’s face made Molly chuckle, “I'm kidding. Besides you'd take all the mystery out of it once you'd told me how he likes to dress in women’s clothing or he had a terrible fetish or something.” His eyebrows meet in the middle of his forehead now, the confusion etched into his face at Molly's statement. Molly gave a relaxed smile and placed a hand on his arm, “I really am grateful for you stepping in just now.” 

_ Mycroft lowered his eyes to her hand and then to meet her in an instant. His expression showed nothing of the flurry underneath. He broke the moment with a deep breath and went to speak. _

 

**_If I can't hold you now_ ** ****_  
_ **_Keep thinking that you might not come around_ ** **_  
_ ** ****_I have no words, I have no words to say_

**_If I can't change your mind_ ** ****_  
_ **_Keep thinking, is this our last goodbye?_ ** ****_  
_ **_You say it first, you say it first to me_ **  
  


_ “Molly?!”  _

_ Mycroft’s mouth closed with an audible click and his lips flattened into a straight line.  _

_ Lestrade. Of course. He  _ was  _ the reason Mycroft had sort after Miss Hooper originally.  _

_ Molly gave a small wave and squeezed Mycroft’s arm; leaning up to peck him on the cheek while he was distracted. Greg made a beeline for them.  _ _ With that Mycroft gave a swift nod of his head; a small bow gesture to the D.I and left them standing in the garden.  _

_ “What was that about? Where's Tom?” Greg muttered as he watched Holmes the eldest leave his companion. Molly sighed and brought him up to speed as they head inside. _   
  
**_You're in the clear_ ** ****_  
_ **_While I'm waking up to nothing but tears_ ** ****_  
_ **_And you say they've said_ ** **_  
_ ** ****_That I'm the only one that needed to change_

 

They stood next to the unopened food as guests filtered in and waited for Mary and John to arrive. “Have you seen Sherlock recently?” Greg asked as he watched the sea of people flickering. Molly made a negative sound and stood up on her tiptoes trying to see over the heads of the milling guests. 

“Ah! There he is- Sherlock!” Greg pointed and called out to him.

“Lestrade.” Sherlock stood next to Molly and kept his arms firmly trapped behind his back, observing the final guests as they made their way to their seats. 

Molly tried to catch his eye and gave a small smile when he finally conceded, “Alright?” She asked quietly. 

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” He answered sharply, “And where is your  _ date _ ? Ran off already has he?” He looked agitated. “Sherlock!” Came from Greg at the same time Molly sighed and said, “Sherlock, stop it. You don’t need to-” But he continued, “That must be a record for you Molly, putting a man off in less than one gathering. Lucky escape for him really. You didn’t like him anyway, not really, he wasn’t exciting enough. And besides, not that you’d know even though it was  _ painfully  _ obvious, he was still in contact with his ex, and I don’t mean by phone-” 

Molly had had enough, “Greg, could you get me a drink please? I need to talk to Sherlock.” The detective eyed them both but slowly made his way towards the bar. “Sherlock, Stop it. Just. Stop.” She placed her hands either side of his face and held him firmly. She paused and took a breath, she could have sworn she heard him sigh too. “Whatever it is, whatever is going on in here,” She flicked her eyes to his forehead then to his heart, “It’s okay…” Sherlock’s eyes searched her’s for a long time as if trying to explain and deny everything in one go.    
The moment broke when a cheer erupted from the foyer, Sherlock stood, pulling away from her hands. He straightened his suit and gave a small nod to Molly before taking off to the small stage area to set up his violin. 

Molly wrapped her arms around herself and felt a terrible sorrow wash over her. 

“Tragic. Unfortunate and tragic. Caring really isn’t an advantage but this seems a harsh way to reiterate that lesson, even for Sherlock.” Molly had felt someone approach but had assumed it was Greg with their drinks so when the low, rumble of Mycroft’s voice met her ears her heart jumped into her throat. Her head flicked sharply to him, eyeing him a moment then glancing sadly back at the best man. She went to ask how much exactly Mycroft knew, or assumed, but the look that passed over his face for a brief moment made her heart melt. He knew it all, and even he couldn’t help feel sorry for his brother whose heart, that had been in a forced stasis for so long, was breaking right now in front of crowded room.    
  
**_You know the things you've said to me_ ** ****_  
_ **_Do you regret them?_ ** **_  
_ ** ****_I just need you next to me_

 

Mycroft handed Molly one of the glasses he was holding. She smiled and went to decline but as if he had read her mind Mycroft inclined his head towards the bar and she could see Greg was no where near ordering their drinks, he was still fighting a que.

Her smile widened and she took the glass of crimson liquid happily, sipping a little then take a few larges gulps. 

Mycroft saw her indulgent moment but merely raised an eyebrow, sipping from his own. 

John and Mary waved and greeted as many as they could as they made their way to the dance floor. Sherlock had announced that he was about to conduct the first dance for the couple by playing a waltz he had written, and had set himself up with the sheet music. 

The slow notes began and a hush came over the guests. John and Mary glided across the floor slowly and deliberately, never taking their eyes off one another. Tears freely falling down Mary’s cheek as John looked glassy eyed. Molly and Mycroft both watched on as couples slowly joined them on the floor. 

“Would you care to dance?” Molly looked at Mr British Government incredulously. He raised an eyebrow and extended his hand to hers, removing the empty wine glasses and offered his hand once more.

She smiled bashfully, and took it. Not a moment later he had lead her to the centre of the floor, gracefully moving in perfect time with the music. Even as the rhythm changed he kept perfect step. Molly struggled to keep up when the tempo increased but had a funny feeling that Mycroft was inadvertently trying to distract his brother. Yes. If Sherlock focused on trying to trip up a dancing Mycroft then he wasn’t hurting or thinking about John. Molly was sure of it but she wouldn’t bring it up with Mycroft, not just yet. She would just be happy in the knowledge that it seemed to be working.     
  
**_If I can't hold you now_ ** ****_  
_ **_Keep thinking that you might not come around_ ** ****_  
_ **_I have no words, I have no words to say_ ** ****_  
_ **_If I can't change your mind_ ** ****_  
_ **_Keep thinking, is this our last goodbye?_ ** **_  
_ ** ****_You say it first, you say it first to me_

The dance began to slow again and the couples seemed to slowly envelope each other all around them. If Mycroft noticed he gave no indication, he simply held Molly, firmly and formally, moving her around the floor. She felt his strong chest beneath her hand and the softness of his suit jacket. She was very  _ very  _ aware of his hand resting on her waist, the flex of each muscle and change in grip each direction made.

“I didn't have you pegged as such a dancer.” Molly commented, finally looking up, she had been sharing her attention between watching her feet and Mycroft’s chest. His eyes absorbed her as he seemed to test for sincerity. 

Satisfied, he scoffed, “Mummy insisted both of us learn to move like gentlemen. I only kept it up for formalities. Sherlock, however, took an invested interest.”

Molly’s eyes widened as Mycroft lead her in a spin and a dip. Both a little breathless as the dance finished and he drew her up to his chest. She could feel both their hearts beating at their previous pace. “Thank you Mycroft.” 

He bowed and kissed her hand, “Not at all Molly.” The way spoken her name suddenly sent a thrill through her, “Thank you.” He stood at full height and lead her back to the spot he had collected her from. “For being a delightful distraction. You look most radiant. Do excuse me.” Another small bow and he’d disappeared into the party. 

Molly struggled with the immense pull that demanded she follow that man and ask for him to hold her again. A flush on her cheeks and her chest as she composed herself. Internally chastising herself, ‘That is Mycroft Holmes and you're behaving like a silly school girl!’ She blamed the wine in the end and when Greg finally stood with her and offered the next glass she downed it in one. If the wine was to blame then she needed more of it. 

“Easy, Molly. Must have been all the dancing.” Greg laughed, “Who’d have thought Mycroft could move so well with a broom rammed up his-” 

“Greg!” Molly laughed. Greg said no more and just chuckled.”He moved very well…” She muttered as she looked out again.    
  
**_So I can't just forget you, just forget you_ ** ****_  
_ **_Can't just forget you, just forget you_ ** ****_  
_ **_And If I can't hold you now_ ** ****_  
_ **_Keep thinking how you might not come around_ ** ****_  
_ **_And I have no words, I have no words to say_ ** ****_  
_ **_If I can't change your mind_ ** ****_  
_ **_Keep thinking, is this our last goodbye?_ ** **_  
_ ** ****_You say it first, you say it first to me_

 

The party music had now shifted to typical disco sounds and many friends were up on the dance floor laughing and drinking. Lestrade moved Molly’s second empty glass and lead her out to join John and Mary dancing to the ‘YMCA’. A little light on her feet she followed, but she kept her eyes open, hoping to spot Mycroft out to the sides of the floor. She had no such luck but she did spot Sherlock hovering by the DJ booth looking incredible stiff. Molly slowed down and sighed when she saw him leave through the double doors and off towards the exit. She managed to mouth a ‘be right back’ to Greg who kept trying to get her arms into the ‘Y’ position and shouted excuse me through the crowd and bumping bodies. 

Once through the double doors the noise stopped suddenly and made Molly feel like she’d entered a tunnel, but she continued forward glancing down the corridors and up the stairs as she passed trying to catch a glimpse of Sherlock. ‘I shouldn't have drank that second glass of wine so quickly... ‘ She thought as she stumbled through the back doors and out into the cold night air. 

“Sherlock?” She called, hoping he would be having a sneaky smoke rather than running off too far out into the grounds. “Sherlock?!” Molly stumbled once more and came to rest on a bench a little out into the garden. She sat, stumped for a moment, ‘If I were Sherlock where would I run to...? Baker Street? Hmm… One of his many bolt holes? I hope not, though tonight was probably a danger night if there ever were one.’ She hoped he had head to hers, he was a regular there recently with John and Mary’s wedding ever looming so it makes sense now that’s where he’d be.

As she sat with her arms around herself she searched the darkness out in front of her in the garden. She swore she could see a lit cigarette floating in the abyss of the open air, her heart leapt,. “Sherlock, come on, it’s just me,” Molly said just loud enough for the thing holding the light to hear, “I don’t think anyone else saw you leave…”

“Ah, incorrect.” The figure replied, “I, too, noticed, and I, too, lost sight of him clearing the immediate garden.” Stepping out of the darkness slightly, Mycroft flicked the end of his smoke. “Molly.” He nodded in acknowledgement. 

She looked confused, “You didn’t follow him?” 

He looked offended and rolled his eyes, “No, _ I _ don't do ‘leg work’.”

“Oh, of course…. but someone is following him?” Molly pushed in earnest, biting her lip as she squinted to make him out in the harsh darkness that filled the rest of the garden. 

He rolled his eyes and huffed through his nose, taking a long drag on his cigarette, “Yes.” He watched the ash fall, “A team are on his trail now, no doubt he’ll try to give them the slip.” She was sure he had a small smirk as he shook his head, “Another team is set at the  _ usual  _ places too, just in case.” 

Molly visibly relaxed and rubbed her hands over her face, “Thanks, for telling me I mean.” A short ‘hmm’ noise came from Mycroft, she wasn’t sure what it meant but she did know that he didn’t have to share any of that with her so she felt obligated to thank him for being open about it. Molly finally looked up to see Mycroft studying her, she gave a tight lipped tired smile and sighed. As she did that he had offered his arm once more. She stood quickly and took it. 

  
**_If I can't hold you now (If I can't hold you now)_ ** ****_  
_ **_Keep thinking that you might not come around (Might not come around)_ ** ****_  
_ **_I have no words, I have no words to say_ ** ****_  
_ **_If I can't change your mind (If I can't change your mind)_ ** ****_  
_ **_Keep thinking, is this our last goodbye? (Our last goodbye?)_ ** **_  
_ ** ****_You say it first, you say it first to me_

 

He began leading her into the darkness of the garden and soon she found they were on a gravel type path leading around the vicinity of the venue, the bricks made the crunching noise under foot as the pair walked in silence. Molly found the walk had become more of a ‘meander’ as Mycroft matched her sloppy slow pace and tried to speed them back up but found he paused and stopped her. “Molly, do stop over thinking.” She snapped her head to look up, that was rich coming from him! “Yes, yes, very droll. But your slurring brain is going to seize up. The pace is fine - you’ve been drinking and you are walking at quite an angle,” His eyes threw a look to her heels, “There is no rush to head back inside, unless of course, you think you’ll be missed?” The walk had started again and the pace was comfortable now for both.

“Oh no, I doubt it…” Her eyes slowly closed and opened again, “John and Mary are wonderfully absorbed in each other and Greg is a very enthusiastic drinker so he’ll be fine. And my date, well, the less said about Tom the better…” Mycroft made no comment and the last sentence hung in the air. “I know I joked about you both vetting the next one but sometimes I feel like that would make it easier, you know? At least any bad traits would be on the table straight away, I wouldn’t end up liking the guy before I found out he was a psycho then.” They seemed to have drawn to a stop at the edge of the lake they started at before. “Or maybe even someone I already knew, then at least the groundwork would already be done… Shame every man I know is either taken or not silly enough to like me like that… “ Molly laughed awkwardly, “Sorry, i don't mean to throw a pity party and just waffle on about men.”

Mycroft had said nothing but watched her intently, she turned her eyes up to his and smiled a little. He raised his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, a whisper followed,  “Molly, if any man who has the good fortune to know you isn’t interested, then he is a fool.” 

Then, the most unexpected thing happened, Mycroft leaned into Molly and placed a soft kiss to her lips. She was suddenly enveloped in all that was Mycroft; his soft lips, his large strong hands, the little duck he had to do to reach her and the smell of his cologne. Her hands had come to rest on his chest as one of his hands closed around the back of her neck and his other arm lay around her waist. The kiss deepened as the couple gained confidence that the other wasn’t about the vomit or scream, and their bodies pressed together tightly. 

“Oh do stop.” The voice not three foot away groaned, “I thought you had better taste.”

They broke apart, breathing heavily, neither knowing who Sherlock was referring to.


End file.
